


Sleepless

by autobotscoutriella



Series: Archaeometric Dating [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hints of possible PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autobotscoutriella/pseuds/autobotscoutriella
Summary: Even after being released from the medbay, Greenlight can't sleep.





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the challenge "In time of need" on [FandomWeekly](https://fandomweekly.dreamwidth.org/221986.html).

The walls of the tiny berthroom seemed to close in around Greenlight, both shielding and confining her. She stared at the door, counting wall tiles; she had already counted them twice, but maybe the numbers from those two times had been wrong. It was something to do besides thinking.

Phantom aches rippled through her knee, even though she _knew_  there was no reason for pain anymore. The medics had replaced the damaged struts and welded together the torn cables; medically speaking, her knee was perfectly intact. She could walk, run, and transform just as well as she had before the...incident.

But it still hurt. It didn’t seem to matter whether it should or not.

She had reached one hundred and eighteen wall tiles and was trying to remember if she'd overlapped two rows or not when a knock on the door echoed through the room like a thunderbolt. Greenlight let out a startled squeak, jumped back, and nearly tumbled off the berth, barely catching herself in time; her voice wobbled embarrassingly when she called, "Come in."

Lancer stood in the dark hallway, the light from Greenlight's room reflecting brightly off her plating. "What'cha doing up? I thought I saw your light on."

"What--what do you mean?" Greenlight straightened her shoulders and tried to look like she hadn't just flung herself away from a knock on the door. "I was just...you know, relaxing."

"At 0200 hours?" Greenlight's face must have reflected her confusion, because Lancer clarified, "I just finished my watch shift. I thought you'd already be recharging."

…Of course. She should have been. When had she decided she was going to go to bed, exactly?

"Guess I just...I'm not tired." It was a lie. She was exhausted. But the last time she'd curled up and closed her optics, she had found herself picturing flashing blades and explosions, hearing shrieks of pain, smelling smoke and ash and burning energon--and had snapped wide awake in an instant. No amount of sleep was worth reliving the battle.

"Well, I guess light duties have their downsides, huh?" Lancer tried for a smile that wasn't as bright as usual. "Can I come in for a bit?"

"Sure, I guess." Greenlight yanked the tarp over her berth, hoping Lancer wouldn't notice that it hadn't been slept in. "Aren't you tired? I mean, if you just got off watch, you, uh...you probably want to sleep. It's okay, really."

"Nah, you know how it goes. It takes me about an hour to wind down after being on watch." Lancer stepped in and closed the door behind her, rubbing a servo across her optics. "So...you doing okay?"

Greenlight opened her mouth to say that yes, of course she was okay, and closed it again after realizing that she didn’t have anything approximating a good answer. “I…I…”

Of course she was fine. She had to be fine. What kind of soldier would she be if she wasn’t? But she couldn’t make herself say it, and she could feel panic welling in her throat the longer the silence lasted. If she couldn’t answer, then…no, she _had_  to answer. She had to be fine.

“Hey, hey.” Lancer reached out and took both of Greenlight’s hands in her own, grip gentle but firm. “It’s okay. It’s only been a few days. Nobody expects you to be back to a hundred percent right away.”

“I know.” Greenlight sank back down on the berth, still holding Lancer’s hands. It was a good way to disguise the fact that her fingers were shaking. “I know. I just…you know, it was the first time, and I think I’m just a little…rattled. But I should be fine.” She couldn’t say she  _was_  fine. She couldn’t lie with Lancer looking at her like that.

“Says who?” Lancer sat down beside her, EM field reaching out to brush comfortingly against Greenlight’s. “Look, I haven’t been a soldier for all that long, but I don’t think there’s a rule for this. It’ll get better once you’re out patrolling again, but…I think it’s okay if it takes a while to recalibrate the first time. Everybody has to do it eventually. Even Command had first fights sometime.”

Greenlight swallowed and nodded, looking down at their intertwined hands. “I hope it’s quick. I…you know. I’m a little…jumpy. Recharging hasn’t gone as well as it did when the medics were sedating me.”

“That’s rough.” Lancer squeezed her hands lightly. “You, uh…you want me to sit with you for a while?”

Greenlight hadn’t even considered that possibility. She swallowed again and tried to hide the sudden jump in her EM field—nervousness? Probably just exhaustion. “I, uh…I mean, if you want to. But you just got off shift. I don’t want to keep you if you’d—if you want some sleep, or something. I can—I’ll manage. But if you really want to stay…”

“I want to help. Look, I…” Lancer shifted on the berth and looked down at her lap. “I’ve missed you since you’ve been in the medbay. A lot, actually. And if you need me, I want to be there. You’re my friend, and if I can help you get back to functioning, I’m not just going to leave you to figure it out alone.”

“That…that means a lot. Thank you.” Greenlight found herself blinking away tears. No, she was not going to cry. She had done enough crying when no one was around. She wasn’t going to ruin this moment. “If…if you want to stay, I—it would help, I think.”

“’Course I’ll stay.” Lancer settled herself more comfortably on the berth and tugged lightly on Greenlight’s hands, coaxing her to sit back on the narrow bunk. “We’ll just dim the lights and sit for a while, yeah? We can talk, or not, whatever will make you feel better. I’m not going anywhere.”

Greenlight leaned back, half against the wall and half against Lancer’s shoulder, and let herself vent slowly, in, out. _I’m not going anywhere._

“…Thank you.”


End file.
